The Princess's Bodyguard ( Lyra point of view)

I always thought ten was a perfect age. Not too young to be treated like a baby, but not old enough to shoulder any real responsibilities. My days were filled with a simple rhythm of play and learning, laughter and the warmth of my parents' love. 

Our house was small but cozy, nestled at the edge of a bustling village. The walls were adorned with handwoven tapestries and shelves brimming with my father's books. He was a scholar, well-versed in both human and demon lore, always eager to share his knowledge. My mother, a skilled healer, had a gentle touch and an even gentler smile. I felt safe, cocooned in the world they had created for me.

Every morning, I would wake to the smell of fresh bread baking in the oven. Mother insisted on making everything from scratch. "There's magic in food made with love," she would say, her eyes twinkling. I believed her. The aroma would draw me to the kitchen where she'd greet me with a kiss on the forehead.

"Good morning, Lyra," she'd say. "Are you ready for today's adventure?"

I always was. After breakfast, I'd help her gather herbs from our garden. She taught me about each one, explaining their uses in her healing practices. I loved the feel of the earth under my fingers, the scent of the plants mixing with the morning dew.

"Mother, what's this one?" I asked one day, pointing to a vibrant red flower.

"Ah, that's a bloodwort," she replied, kneeling beside me. "It's used to stop bleeding. Very powerful, but you must be careful with it."

Her hands were always so steady, so sure. I admired her greatly and wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

By mid-morning, I'd be off to the village school. Father taught there, his passion for knowledge contagious. He made every lesson an adventure. Today, we were learning about the history of our world, where humans and demons coexisted in an uneasy peace.

"Lyra, can you tell the class what you know about the Great Treaty?" Father asked, his eyes encouraging me.

"The Great Treaty was signed a hundred years ago," I began, feeling the familiar rush of excitement that came with speaking about history. "It was an agreement between the human king and the demon lord to end the war and bring peace. They agreed to share the land and work together."

"Very good," Father said, smiling. "And why is it important that we remember this?"

"Because it shows that we can live together in harmony," I replied, feeling proud. "Even though we're different."

Father nodded, his eyes softening. "Exactly. Differences should be celebrated, not feared."

After school, I'd meet my friends in the village square. We'd play games, our laughter echoing through the narrow streets. Sometimes, we'd venture into the forest nearby, daring each other to explore deeper and deeper. The forest was a place of mystery and wonder, filled with ancient trees and hidden paths.

One afternoon, as we were playing hide and seek, I stumbled upon an old, weathered sword half-buried in the ground. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen, its blade etched with strange runes. My fingers tingled as I touched it, a strange sense of destiny washing over me.

"Lyra, where are you?" My friend's voice broke the spell, and I quickly covered the sword with leaves, vowing to return later.

Dinnertime was a cherished ritual in our household. We'd gather around the wooden table, sharing stories of our day. Father would recount his latest research, Mother would share tales of the people she helped, and I'd talk about my adventures with my friends.

"Today, I found something really interesting in the forest," I said one evening, my voice tinged with excitement.

"Oh? And what was that?" Father asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It was an old sword. It looked magical," I said, my eyes wide.

Father's expression grew serious. "You must be careful, Lyra. The forest holds many secrets, some of which can be dangerous."

"I will, Father. I promise," I said, though my mind was already racing with thoughts of the sword and what it might mean.

As the sun set and the sky turned a deep shade of purple, we'd sit by the fireplace, Mother humming a lullaby as she knitted, Father lost in one of his books. I'd curl up with my favorite stories, tales of brave knights and powerful mages. I dreamed of becoming a hero, of wielding magic and protecting those I loved.

But dreams have a way of turning into nightmares.

It was a night like any other when everything changed. I was tucked into bed, the comforting sounds of the village lulling me to sleep. Suddenly, a scream pierced the night, shattering the tranquility. My eyes flew open, heart pounding.

"Mother? Father?" I called out, fear gripping me.

They rushed into my room, faces pale with terror. "Lyra, we need to leave. Now," Father said, his voice shaking.

"What's happening?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"There's no time to explain," Mother said, grabbing my hand. "We have to go."

We fled into the night, the village ablaze with chaos. Dark shapes moved through the streets, monstrous and terrifying. I clung to my parents, my mind unable to comprehend what was happening.

As we reached the edge of the village, a massive creature blocked our path. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen, a nightmarish blend of scales and claws, its eyes glowing with malevolence.

Father stepped forward, brandishing a staff I'd never seen before. "Go! I'll hold it off," he shouted.

"No!" Mother cried, but he turned to us, his eyes filled with love and determination.

"Protect her," he said softly, before turning back to face the creature.

Mother pulled me away, tears streaming down her face. We ran, the sounds of battle echoing behind us. I wanted to look back, to see if Father was okay, but Mother wouldn't let me.

We reached a small clearing, and she pushed me into the hollow of a tree. "Stay here, Lyra. Don't move, no matter what happens," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"But—"

"Promise me!" she insisted, her eyes fierce.

"I promise," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

She kissed my forehead, then turned and ran back towards the village. I huddled in the hollow, my heart breaking as I listened to the distant sounds of destruction.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited, every rustle of leaves making me jump. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I crawled out of the hollow and crept back towards the village, my steps silent.

What I saw shattered my world.

The village was in ruins, fires burning everywhere. Bodies lay scattered, human and demon alike. I stumbled through the wreckage, calling for my parents, but there was no answer.

Then I saw him. A knight, clad in shining armor, locked in battle with a monstrous beast. He moved with incredible speed and grace, his sword a blur of motion. But he was outnumbered, the creatures closing in on him.

"Help!" I screamed, but my voice was lost in the chaos.

The knight turned, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. In that instant, I saw a flicker of recognition, as if he knew me. He fought his way towards me, cutting down any creature that stood in his path.

"Run!" he shouted, but I couldn't move.

One of the monsters lunged at him, and with a final, desperate swing, he defeated it. But the effort cost him dearly. He fell to his knees, blood pouring from a deep wound.

I ran to him, tears streaming down my face. "Please, don't die," I begged.

He looked up at me, his face pale. "Take this," he said, handing me his sword. "It will protect you."

"But I can't—"

"You must," he said, his voice fading. "You are destined for great things, Lyra. Believe in yourself."

With those words, he closed his eyes, the light leaving them. I clutched the sword to my chest, feeling its weight and the immense responsibility it carried.

I was alone. My parents were gone, the village destroyed. All that remained was the knight's sword and a burning desire for revenge.

I vowed that night to become stronger, to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. I would honor the knight's sacrifice and my parents' memory.

The world was a chaotic place, filled with darkness and danger. But I would face it head-on, armed with courage and the sword of a fallen hero.

As dawn broke, I stood amidst the ruins of my home, the weight of my new reality settling in. The journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: I would fight. For my parents, for the knight, and for a future where no one would have to suffer as I had.

And so, my story began.